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Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Author's Note: Sequel to "Black and Blue."
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Hannibal Lecter or Will Graham, unfortunately, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue. soar
***Hannibal leaned back in his chair as he heard the water in the shower turn on; Will had undoubtedly finally awakened for the day. He wondered what the young man would say when he looked down at his body and saw the aftermath of last night.
The bruises he'd left on Will's body were proof of his ownership, nothing more. They would be repeated, night after night, each time they were together.
Will Graham belonged to him. And if he chose to mark his possession, then he would do so. Will really had no say in the matter; it didn't matter to Hannibal whether the young man wanted to be marked or not. He would be, and that was an end to it.
The bruises on Will's body almost made him shiver with delight; it had felt wonderful to put them there, to see them blossoming and darkening areas of Will's pale skin. They had made him feel deliciously powerful; he'd known that he was asserting control.
That control was intrinsic to their relationship.
Will wouldn't understand that, not for a while. He would think that he was somehow an equal, that the two of them were partners. But Hannibal knew better. He was the master, and Will was his submissive. Will had no control in any way.
If Will thought that he would ever be an equal in this relationship, then he was sadly mistaken. Hannibal knew that he had to disabuse the young man of that idea quickly, before Will became intractable and much harder for him to control.
At the moment, he held the reins. But he knew how easy it could be for Will to wrench them from his hands, even if only for a brief time.
Will was his weakness. He always would be. It was difficult for him to be brutal with the young man; even in the moments when he was causing Will pain, he would always pull back, be sure that there was no serious harm being done.
After all, he didn't want to break his favorite toy too quickly.
What was the use of having a lovely toy to play with if he broke it too soon? Will would be broken at some point, Hannibal told himself with an inward smile. And he would enjoy that breakage; he would spend quite a bit of time admiring his handiwork.
Then would come the long, complicated task of rebuilding Will, of putting those broken pieces back into place as Hannibal saw fit. It would take a while, but he was a patient man. Putting Will back together again would be a challenge, one that he was sure he could meet.
Just thinking of Will made Hannibal smile; no one else had the power to do that for him. Thinking of Will could always brighten his day, even when the young man wasn't here.
He would be here soon enough; he would come down the stairs, dressed to go to work, his dark curls still damp from the shower, his skin glowing. Hannibal couldn't take his eyes off Will in the mornings; he was an irresistible magnet.
He wanted nothing more at those times than to take Will back to bed.
But, of course, he couldn't do that; Will had to go to work, and he had responsibilities, as well. He would have to be patient and wait until the evening, or possibly the night after that. But Will would come to him again soon, naked and expectant.
And then he would give his boy all that needed -- and wanted. Yes, Will wanted what Hannibal did to him; he might deny that he craved those bruises, deny that heeded to be taken and marked. But Hannibal knew that Will hid a dark side that he couldn't deny.
Will needed what the two of them did together just as much as he did, if not more. He filled that emptiness in Will's soul, satisfied that darkness with him.
Those bruises would be a reminder to Will of just what their relationship was, of just how much he needed to be dominated and controlled. Will might not like to admit that fact, but it was the truth -- and Hannibal would make him see that fact and admit to it.
It was just another way of marking Will Graham as his own.
Seeing those bruises every time Will took off his clothes gave him a feeling of power such as he'd never known before; even killing, snuffing the life out of a human body, didn't give him the same rush that seeing the bruises on Will's pale flesh did.
He loved knowing that Will was marked as his, loved knowing that he had mastery over this beautiful young man. No one else had ever given him that kind of power; everyone in the past who he'd tried to exert that mastery over had struggled against him.
That had necessitated getting rid of them. But Will .... Will was different. He accepted that mastery; being owned, being marked.
Will didn't fight him. Will simply let him take what was his, let him do what he wished, and submitted to it. Will even enjoyed what was done to him, even when the pleasure Hannibal gave him bordered on pain and then crossed over that threshold.
Will was made for him. He was destined to be marked by Hannibal.
There was nothing so satisfying as knowing that he could have all he wanted, at any time that he wanted it. There was no feeling as intoxicating as knowing that he had such power over Will, that the object of his desire would fall at his feet.
Will would come to him any time that he wished. The young man was under his spell, enthralled by him, mesmerized by the physical rapport they shared. He had never known the sort of physical release that only Hannibal could give him; he was enraptured by it.
How much longer Will would remain under that spell, Hannibal didn't know. But for the moment, he could enjoy Will's submission to the fullest.
And he certainly intended to do that, he thought, flexing his hands. He would enjoy leaving more dark bruises on Will's body -- and he would enjoy the tears that those bruises engendered. He would drink in Will's pain like a fine vintage.
Will was even more beautiful when he was helpless and crying.
Just the thought of seeing Will in such a submissive state made the breath catch in Hannibal's throat; for just a moment, he didn't want to let his young lover leave to go to work today. He wanted to lock Will in his bedroom and keep him there for the entire day.
Unfortunately, that wouldn't be possible, and he knew it. But come the evening, he would be able to enjoy Will once again. No, he wouldn't let the young man go home tonight.
There would be no escape for Will Graham. Not tonight, and not the next night, either. He would spend those nights here in Hannibal's home, in his bed, in his arms, accepting the marks that Hannibal left on his body and becoming even more in thrall to him.
Hannibal couldn't hold back a smile of satisfaction at the thought. He couldn't wait to put more bruises on that beautiful body -- bruises that marked Will Graham as his.
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